


Lennan Convention

by Hazel_Inle



Series: Internal Domestic Affairs of the First Order [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Pre-Canon, Sexual Content, Social Issues, before starkiller's destruction, hitaka, hux cant take care of himself, indifference to lovers, kylo ren is not/neither is matt, mitaka is sweet but his problems finally show, phasma is buddies with all involved, post Protocol 2-31, rodinon and thannison are happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2018-11-04 03:44:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10982661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel_Inle/pseuds/Hazel_Inle
Summary: After Protocol 2-31 is served, Mitaka and Hux are faced with having to work together in the same environment. One year after the events on Naboo, but they still don't know how to cope with the sight of one another. Each chose their own tactic, though questionable in nature.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> ***THIS IS THE SECOND INSTALLMENT OF A SERIES****  
> I highly encourage you to read Protocol 2-31 before this, because otherwise this will not make sense. A lot of what happens here is dependent on content in the previous work .

_Hux_

 

Hux would agree (only after torture that was potentially life threatening) that he was no longer fit for duty given all circumstances their proper consideration.

It was not a conclusion he was settled with mentally; he would hardly ever give up his rank, his career, or even his respectability for the sake of his health. However, it seemed the medical personnel had finally seen through his coding cheats, and realized that the data on their forms had been forged by their patient.

A human would be able to see through the trick, but with all the budget cuts they had to make over the past year since his weapon was approved for construction, the filing had been left to droids. This was reason enough to avoid Medical; Hux rather _hated_ droids. Especially ones that were meant for the care of a living being with needs that a machine could never understand.

Nevertheless, there was a sort of mutiny, which resulted in three medical staff nursing their own injuries while the others tended to their general.

“Sir, this isn’t healthy. According to our scans-”

Here, Hux tuned her out. The young officer appeared nervous to be speaking with someone so important, but nevertheless firm in her conviction. Hux paid her no mind as he played with the edge of his glove.

They didn’t even take off his uniform to check him. Granted, he had broken three arms of those who had tried and snarled at anyone who came near, but that made their treatment no better than the droids. He would gladly pass on that.

A memory pulled into his thoughts.

Painful blisters, sheets, gentle hands, boyish brown eyes flecked with gold, cold water, and a pair of lips.

A voice shattered his train of thought, “Sir?”

“What?” Hux could not help the snap, and didn’t feel guilty as the nurse jumped away in fright.

“I-I was just saying that I already took the liberty of having your aide clear out your schedule for the next 24 hours for medical leave-”

“And _why_ would you go and do a stupid thing as that!?” Hux’s earlier irritation now became full rage, and it took every ounce of control not to lash out at her.

“Sir, you are malnourished and sleep deprived. I understand that running the First Order is a hard ordeal, but-”

“You are correct, you _don’t_ understand.” Hux interrupted once more. “I am not in a position to _rest_ and if you cared at all for the First Order-”

 _“_ General _,_ _Sir_ , as a medical professional and as stated in my commission and contract, I am allowed to assign medical leave to those who would better serve the Order if they _have_ medical leave, which includes, but not limited to, _generals_.”

Her sudden declaration left Hux speechless. He had no argument left in him (he would later blame that he was either drugged or too tired to come up with a counter) so Hux was sent away with a medical bracelet and a 24 hour leave. Hux tugged at the flimsy plastic band as he sulked down the halls, but could not remove it no matter how hard he tugged.

Leave was the _last_ thing Hux wanted at the moment. In fact, he _could_ argue that medical leave could be counterproductive to his mental state, but the argument was already over.

_Damn._

It was when he _wasn’t_ working when the demons began whispering. It was the silence that was their invitation, and Hux was determined to never give them a chance. Working had given him his solace, but every night before he slept, they would return. He had tried white noise, but even that only kept them at bay for a few days. Crashing waves only triggered more unpleasant things, and he quit that idea before even giving it a proper try.

 _I don’t need to know if it works or not though experimentation; that night was_ wretched.

Hux turned a corner and found himself faced with the doors to the officer’s cantina. He could hear the chatter inside and felt his stomach clench in sickly dread.

_The officers’ gossip has become unbearable. Ever since we returned…_

He shook his head to do away with his thoughts before rounding the threshold and entering the room.

The transition was instantaneous. People sat straighter, conversation topics changed, and the voices lulled to a more subdued volume. A few stared pointedly at their trays of food as if their meals were the most interesting things they had ever seen. One even paled and hid behind a taller officer.

Hux schooled his expression to be austere, and merely went to the caf station as though the change didn’t bother him.

However, it _did._ He used to enjoy changing the room’s dynamic with just his presence, but that was when he never socialized and didn’t care for other’s opinion. However, with the discovery of comradeship, the power he once loved became a stab of anxiety he never knew he possessed.

This was why he normally frequented the cantina during dead hours, not when almost every officer was preparing for first shift. Including _him._

As if on instinct, his eyes found him without even searching. His gaze was a magnet, and _he_ was the opposing pole.

Mitaka, however, did not return the look. He kept to his conversation with his friend, Thanisson, as innocent as ever. As innocent as he is guilty for Hux’s agony.

“Sir?” a welcome voice said in the midst of the tumultuous sensations Hux was experiencing.

“Phasma,” Hux greeted, turning his head to the chrome armored captain.

She had joined their ranks officially not a month before and had already proven her place amongst the best officers. In the year at the trooper academy, she had proven far beyond her cadet years and rose to graduation in just two semesters. Hux immediately snatched his chance, and collected her personally, rather than through a dull and impersonal invitation message. She was as regal and sarcastic as ever, and the familiarity was much appreciated for the both of them. Kylo Ren waited for their arrival and demanded her for a mission with insurgents as a test for the Supreme Leader.

Amazingly, she not only did well under the pressure with her new unit, but also formed a perfect combat relationship with Kylo Ren. Everyone was pleased, including Snoke.

“I heard there was a commotion on the Bridge this morning,” Phasma said, filling a thermos with hot water.

Hux didn’t want to ask how she was going to drink that with her helmet on, or why she was even here with full armor, until he remembered _who_ was in the room with them. Instinctually, his eyes flicked back to Mitaka and his friend, the ex-husband. The motion was brief, and thankfully a micro-expression.

“Yes, I was dragged to Medical,” he conceded.

“Sir?”

“It seems I now am forced for medical leave for the next 24 hours. The damned nurse was angry.”

“I see, Sir.” This was her reply when she obviously had more thoughts on the matter, but understood her rank. Otherwise it would be a simple, “yes, Sir.”

The corner of Hux’s mouth twitched towards a smile, but that was all. No doubt once she was off the clock, she would voice her opinion on the matter. _He_ may be off the clock, but she wasn’t.

“Regardless, I intend to finish those reconnaissance reports.”

“Sir, I don’t want to be the bringer of bad news, but standard medical leave procedure requires the patient’s server to be locked down. It’s likely that you will not be able to work at all.”

Hux’s eyebrow twitched, and took a sip of caf.

“I see. Do you require your datapad, Captain?”

“I do not. But it’s unlikely you’ll be able to log in. I said the _server_ is locked, not the device.

Hux’s caf cup exploded in a splash of coffee and glass. It was lucky that he was wearing gloves, or else he would’ve returned to medical with burns and shards stuck in his flesh. Also, he was sure he wasn’t technically allowed to drink caf when he was supposed to be sleeping. No doubt they would punish him further. How embarrassing.

It was at this moment he realized that the room had gone quiet, and all eyes were now on him. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and his complexion flush in humiliation. Phasma reached for another cup and filled it with de-caf.

“It’s only 24 hours, Sir. Or in this case 23 hours and 51 minutes,” she comforted, pressing the cup to his other hand. “Besides, I recall a great leader say in a recent speech that we all make sacrifices for the First Order.”

Hux scoffed and took the decaf with a roll of his eyes.

“Flattery does not become you, Captain. Spare me.”

“As you say, Sir.” This, she said when she had no intention of following orders.

Hux bit back a smile as he turned away, snatching a piece of toast from the dispenser. Ignoring how the room gave a sigh of relief once he crossed the threshold, he made his way towards his office. If he couldn’t get his digital work finished, then at least he can look over his plans on paper. Medical couldn’t stop him from that. He’ll have to use a different clearance code than his own to get to his workspace, but it paid to be in charge of everyone else’s codes.

A second set of steps matched his own regulated march. They were too heavy to be a trooper or an officer, and anyone else wouldn’t _dare_ come near him. That left only one possibility.

_Kylo Ren._

Hux stopped and turned to face him.

“Do you require something?” he growled, already annoyed at the masked Knight.

Kylo Ren just stared back with no hint of emotion. Hux once again thought for the umpteenth time about how much he hated that bucket. _Phasma’s helmet_ held more emotion than this hunk of scrap garbage.

“The Supreme Leader will most likely ask of the Trooper Army status in our meeting.”

“Yes, which I am sure you can handle on your own. I will not be there, as I have been forced on medical leave.”

“You can’t dodge this, Hux,” Ren instantly commanded, though underneath there was a sense of panic.

There was the agreement among the two after their adventure across the galaxy last year that the decided story was _Ren_ found Phasma, and Hux just made plans of the Trooper’s training and origin based off his ideas in the academy. Neither were true: Hux had found Phasma, and the notes from his father’s diary about an ideal army without the usage of cloning.

The lie proved to the Supreme Leader that they worked together. Snoke claimed that it was a test all along for their compatibility as Co-Commanders. Hux felt exasperated the more he thought about that conversation, and it didn’t help that Ren felt compelled to remind him of their agreed story.

_How annoying…_

Regardless, this was the first time Ren would have to face the subject alone, and obviously he didn’t feel prepared. Why should he? Hux had always taken care of it. He suddenly had a distinctly relatable sensation as birds did when they threw their young out of the nest to force them to learn to fly. Otherwise, they’d never do it.

“I have a report written up,” Hux said, rubbing his temple with the side of his hand that was holding his toast. “And already sent to you about our numbers, stages of training and development, and the commanders in charge. I sent it to you last night.”

“I’ve read it.”

A pause.

“So what do you _want_?” Hux snarled.

“I do not require anything,” Kylo Ren claimed.

Hux felt throbbing on the side of his head where his hand just was. His face pinched into displeasure.

“Ren. Out. Now.” He forced through gritted teeth, the pressure causing more strain than his annoyance. At once, the presence slipped out like liquid through a straw.

“You’re slipping, Hux,” Kylo Ren mused. “What will your crew think?”

“No doubt think that you are pestering me again with pointless conversations.”

“Then they look, but do not see.”

Kylo Ren then stalked off, leaving Hux hanging onto a plethora of curses that were not all in basic. He let out a deep breath as he mentally counted in binary.

_I must not think about it. It will only annoy me…_

Kylo Ren had begun speaking in riddles for some time, and Hux wasn’t sure why. If this fact were not shocking enough, he destroyed even less consoles now. Hux supposed it was because he disappeared with his knights to train with his master for long periods of time, which made the _Finalizer’s_ air more breathable.

_Perhaps it’s a Force user trait? They all were rather ambiguous. Even the Jedi, apparently…_

Feeling his irritation abate just a little bit, Hux took a bite from his toast and threw the rest of the stale bread into a garbage chute and continued towards his office.

No matter how much time had passed over the last year, Kylo Ren and Mitaka had both become unbearable for entirely different reasons, neither of which he wanted to deal with right now.

* * *

_Mitaka_

 

“Just one piece of toast, Phel.” Thanisson said suddenly.

His head was turned back to look over his shoulder at the doorway where Hux had just left from. Mitaka didn’t look up from his plate.

“Hm?"

“Yesterday it was two. Now it’s just one.”

“Alright,” Mitaka shrugged, driving his utensil into the rationed food a little harder than warranted.

Thanisson watched the movement with a keen eye. He and Rodinon had taken to studying him more than ever. Neither could understand why Mitaka was so insistent of paying no mind at all to the one man who wanted desperately for all his attention. Yes, Aeon agreed that Mitaka was right to reject the bastard, but that didn’t mean torture the man with indifference.

“You’re ignoring me,” Thanisson proclaimed.

“I’m thinking,” Mitaka replied.

“You’re _always_ thinking when I mention Hux,” came the quick jab punctuated with an eye-roll.

“Hm?” Mitaka hummed more to aggravate Thannison than any real absence of mind. Instead of irking his friend with the jest, Aeon burst into a smug grin and pointed his fork at Mitaka.

“Point made,” he said in triumph. Now Mitaka gave his own annoyed eye-roll.

“Aeon-”

Thanisson raised his hand to stop him. “I’ve been talking with Liet.”

“Of course you have, he’s your _partner_ ,” Mitaka said with a teasing smile. Thanisson shook his head at the poke.

“Liet said that last night he didn’t leave his office until the early morning shift.”

Mitaka sighed. Of course Rodinon would be on the lookout for Hux as well. He had the late shift, and held the same duties as Mitaka. Even down to reporting and filing. Only their shift time was different. So naturally Rodinon would know when Hux would leave, and didn’t make it a mystery to Mitaka either.

“So, he’s busy,” Phel decided.

“He’s falling apart, more like.”

Mitaka pauses and gazes at his friend searchingly.

Just one year and the anger Thanisson harbored all his life at the murderer of his first love had exchanged to gratitude. The approval for divorce and remarriage had settled that. Now he was starting to show actual _concern_ for Hux.

_That or he thinks I have something to do with all of it._

“Are you implying that I should intervene?” Mitaka asked almost sarcastically.

Thanisson’s look gave away his friend’s sincerity he had put on as he pointed out, "You see him every day for the midday report."

“Yes.”

“You know him best because of-”

“ _And_?” Mitaka cut him off, his irritation now apparent.

“Well,” Thanisson frowned with an equally displeased look. “I don’t want to be led by some frail shell that looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over. Only person who can talk to him and _get_ to him is _you_.”

“Get to him…” Mitaka repeated slowly.

Oh yes, Mitaka had _gotten to him_ all right. He had apparently made Hux desperately in love with him at one point on Naboo. But now, one year later, it had simmered to a simple prolonged look every now and again that was inappropriate, and _never_ reciprocated. Mitaka couldn’t let himself give an inch. It was dangerous if he did so.

“I mean… _you know._ ” Thanisson gestured wildly with his head, but Mitaka’s flat look didn’t change. The Petty Officer sighed and downed the last of his caf as he stood up.

“Okay, fine. But if this ship crashes into a sun because he can’t focus worth Kriff, I’m blaming you.”

He tossed his mug into a dish container for the droids to clean later and started for the door.

“You can’t blame me if we all are dead, which would happen long before we would reach the sun,” Mitaka called after him smartly. “That, and we won’t do that; our navi-computers are designed to brake or change directory long before we reach that point.”

“Kriff you Phel, you know what I meant!” Thanisson yelled over his shoulder as he left.

Mitaka chuckled and gathered his things to put away. Once finished, he left the cantina to begin at his shift on the bridge.

He didn’t care about Hux. He _didn’t._  Mitaka was as sure on this point as he was certain of his chances at winning a duel against Kylo Ren: none whatsoever. His mood towards his commanding officer depended on the day and circumstance.

When Hux was in a state of melancholy (which was often) Mitaka was indifferent. When Hux was in a rage, he was appalled. When Hux was good…Mitaka felt regret. He would argue with himself that it was only natural. He was witnessing Hux’s good and fair side, which would commonly make the onlooker think well of him, no matter of his past crimes. Mitaka was victim to this thinking, when he should be resolute in his indifference. Hux certainly had shown that he cared very little for Mitaka in the past year.

They said no more than necessary, and communed only for the report. Mitaka was content with this arrangement for the most part. But something had changed within Hux. Something was off about him. To many, it was Hux’s declining health and fair mannerisms as overworked stress took a toll on his body. To Mitaka, it was more with Hux’s _discontentment._ Something was bothering him, making him jumpy, anxious, stressed.

He _could_ say it was the impending pressure of war and the New Republic’s potential discovery of their first officially weaponized base, but Mitaka knew Hux reveled in work stress. No, this was an emotional matter. There was no other explanation.

Now why anyone would think it was _Mitaka’s_ duty to do anything was entirely based off the rumors and gossip of the personnel. They had gotten it in their heads that Mitaka, while not Hux’s Significant Other, was his babysitter. His “work-mother”. While Mitaka wouldn’t deny that he had a nurturing hand for the man at one point, he would not concede he still had such a thing. Besides, Hux would never accept help now; his pride was more fragile the less sleep he obtained. And if the new rumor was true, Hux hadn’t gained any rest at all for the past week.

Mitaka’s work for the day was light and by no means difficult. It was pleasant on the bridge, and the mood was easygoing (or as easygoing as a military ship _can_ be). It was not till mid-shift did Mitaka feel a twist of dread in his gut.

_The mid-shift report…_

He avoided everyone’s eyes as he moved away from his console and gathered the reports from each sector supervisor. He could feel their gaze and expectancy as he did this, and wished them all blindness. His wish was ignored, so he deigned to ignore them too.

Down a hall and one clearance code later, he was inside Hux’s office.

“Report, Lieutenant,” Hux stated absentmindedly.

He was leaning over his desk screen heavily, his arms holding his body up from the surface. The blue glow of the light was brighter than normal, giving away the sickly paleness of his face. If this were not enough, the rings of black under his eyes and the sunken in optics highlighted the mawkish complexion. Mitaka could hardly speak, he was so shocked with this new revelation. He had always seen Hux at a fair distance, and when they were close, he chose not to see at all. But now… _now_ he was forced to reckon with the state of his commanding officer’s plight.

Unbidden, the idea that _he_ was the cause of this came to his mind.

“The report, Lieutenant.” Hux repeated, impatient.

Mitaka only continued to stare, though his eyes caught to a reflective texture upon Hux’s wrist. They fell upon it, widened, and remained at that same spot.

Hux followed his gaze and seemed to realize his plastic medical band was still on his wrist, with the diagnosis of leave peeking out from the sleeve. He growled and tried to yank it off, only to probably get a sore finger and wrist as a result. Damned things were indestructible, it seemed.

“Nothing to report, Sir, except to my commanding officer,” Mitaka finally said as Hux struggled.

“I _am_ your commanding officer, Lieutenant!” Hux snapped, eyes blazing in half crazed adrenaline. Mitaka didn’t give a reply. Instead, he walked forward to the desk and set his datapad on the surface.

“They only can be cut off,” he said.

“What?” Hux asked dubiously.

“The bracelet.” Mitaka motioned to the infernal thing. “They aren’t meant to be ripped off. Only shears or a blade can remove it.”

Hux slowly lowered his arms to his sides and turned away. As he did so, Mitaka caught a glimpse of a blush over his abnormally pale face.

“Sir, please, you’re on Medical leave.” Mitaka’s voice coaxed, softer now. “Let Umino take the bridge. You said she was more than capable on multiple occasions.”

Hux did not turn as he replied grumpily, “Umino has Protocol 2-31 privileges to visit her wife on Laamu.”

Mitaka ignored the pang in his chest at the mention of _that_ protocol. He tried another point.

“As much as I hate to suggest it…perhaps Lord Re-“

“ _Absolutely not.”_ Hux’s solid tone gave no room for further argument. Mitaka nodded and didn’t suggest it again. Hux was not the only person who didn’t want the knight in a position of power; for obvious reasons, the crew would probably start a revolt.

“Sir…permission to speak freely?” Mitaka said at last

 _Just how many times have I asked that? More than everyone else on this ship_ combined _probably._

Hux nodded his head once. Mitaka started.

“Sir, I-“

“Hux.”

Mitaka blinked.

“What?”

Hux turned back to look full upon him, his eyes glazed over.

“Hux. You don’t have to call me sir here on Nab-…” the general seemed to remember where they were at, and his attention cleared as did his throat. “Continue, Lieutenant.”

“Sir, a lot of the officers and personnel here on the _Finalizer_ believe you’ve been avoiding sleep for whatever reason,” Mitaka said. I hope you don’t find that necessity a weakness?”

“No, Lieutenant.” Hux waved a hand and sat at his desk again. “I just do not wish to retire from my work.”

“Your work won’t run away or disappear, Sir.” Mitaka pointed out, moving closer to the desk. “It will be here when you wake up.”

Hux put a hand to his temple and kneaded the flesh there.

“No, Lieutenant, it _won’t_ disappear. Instead it will _sit there_ and not be _finished_.”

His hand lowered and began to fiddle with his wrist once more. Mitaka pondered his argument a moment before speaking again.

“You wish to sleep when your work is done?”

“Yes. And as a general, my job is _never_ done and- _will this infernal thing come off already!?”_ Hus screamed at his wrist as he gave the bracelet another vicious yank. It seemed he had forgotten their earlier conversation already.

_He must be completely out of it._

“Sir, I must protest.” Mitaka stood straighter to give an impression of confidence greater than he actually felt. “Please go back to your quarters and rest.”

“I am in earnest; I will not be defeated by a kriffing slip of _plastic_!”

“No, your mind will defeat itself instead.”

“You have already done _that_ , Mitaka!” Hux slammed his fists on his console with such force that the glass cracked and sparked under the clash.

The screen turned into a spectrum of glitches, before dying completely. Neither of the men in the room were paying attention to that, however.

“I…what?” Mitaka stuttered out.

Hux’s throat bobbled with a large swallow and turned his face way to hide his expression

“Forget this,” he mumbled. “Dismissed.”

Mitaka’s resolve hardened for answers, but didn’t push that particular issue. Instead, he tackled another; a less explosive one, supposedly.

“Only if you return to your quarters and _sleep,_ Sir _._ If it’s so hard to do so because of stress, perhaps you can request _tranquilizers_.”

 _“Dismissed_ , Mitaka.”

“Sir, I cannot allow myself to-”

“Get _OUT_ , _Dopheld!”_

The usage of the first name had differing effects on them. One stumbled back at its exclamation, while the other dropped his head into his hands on his destroyed desk. Mitaka swallowed hard and felt his urge to help and his wish to flee fight for dominance over his actions. The compassion won.

“I will not.” Mitaka approached again. He tried to seem more self assured than he was actually feeling, though wasn't sure why he was doing this in the first place.

_To hell with “why.”_

“Please, listen to reason,” Mitaka pleaded. “You can’t do anything anyway because of your diagnosis, you are exhausted to the point of collapse, and you’ve barely stayed conscious in the spans of this conversation. How can you expect to do work now, when you will have to correct it later?”

Hux shook his head. He was quiet, but the tension in his shoulders caused hesitance in Mitaka furthering his argument. some of his gelled red hair came out of its security, and fell over his knuckles.

Mitaka forgot himself and brushed them away to their rightful place. Hux lowered his hands at last and seemed to move his head towards Mitaka’s hand. Whether the motion was conscious was another matter entirely, and one that Mitaka didn’t wish to address.

“Please, Sir…rest.”

Hux, as though possessed, stood up with eyes as vacant as the void outside. Mitaka almost smiled in triumph, before the feeling was killed in its infancy. Hux remained standing for only a beat before falling behind his desk and out of sight. Mitaka vaulted over the shattered surface and quickly came to his aid, to find Hux passed out and looking very ill.

Mitaka’s scream for medical echoed across the hall and into the bridge, where Kylo Ren stood ready to take command, a hand outstretched with devious intent.

 


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not dead! Nor is this dead! I just had a bit of a block/non-motivated period. BUT I have RETURNED! Also forgive any mistakes! This wasn't beta'ed!

Hux

 

Hux could hear screaming. A terror-stricken sound that rebounded across the void darkness Hux was existing in. It was a high-pitched shriek of deafening proportions that was multiplied with millions of sources all around him. Hux would have covered his ears and begged for it to stop, if he had hands, ears, and a mouth. He had no physical for here; just darkness.

All at once, it was silenced.

The process repeated again. The screams striking though the darkness and then suddenly silenced as quickly as it began. Then again. And again. And again…

And stopped. A light was born in the center of the noir canvas, and steadily grew into his surroundings. It took a moment of thought before recognition took hold.

He was back on Naboo. The trees rustled gently in the wind, the splashing and lapping water of the brine filled lakes, the birds singing love songs to one another, the warm sun bathing the tropical paradise in light…

“Tage?”

Hux whirled around, only half realizing he had a body now. What caught his attention was Mitaka.

Mitaka.

He stood there in Naboo fashion: pastel colored flowing shirt, the sleeves open at the shoulders and elbows, showing off his muscles. His pants were tight against his legs, but similarly opened on the sides facing outward. With hair un-gelled and feet bare, his smile was easy, casual; as though this was a common occurrence between them.

Hux trembled as Mitaka approached, his eyes glittering with such adoration and genuine love. Hux could hardly believe that this wonderful gift of a man...was in _love_ with him. Finally, at _last_.

"Mitaka..."

The name slipped from between his lips before he could stop it. Mitaka didn't mind. He pressed a finger to Hux's lips and made a small shushing sound in comfort, and Hux was ready to listen. However, Mitaka’s finger pressed further between Hux’s lips and into his mouth between his teeth. Hux dared not bite down but teased the digit with his tongue.

The sharp metallic taste startled Hux completely and he confused my wondered if he was bleeding. It became apparent however, that he was not the one who was the cause of the taste.

Looking up, he saw Mitaka’s face was dripping in blood, as were his clothes, the floor, and everywhere around them. It pooled and flowed on the ground, the liquid line rising up past their ankles, shins, knees, thighs...

Mitaka kept smiling.

His eyes were still shining, innocent, gleeful. Mouth uneven in their sides, right side taking preference for being higher. Teeth mostly straight. Blood spilled down his face in streams and waterfalls like tears, but he showed no signs of being disturbed by this change of scenery. He just kept his gaze on Hux, so loving, so _content_.

The blood was now at their waists, and steadily rising.

"Phel?" Hux pleaded.

"It's fine, Hux.” He comforted. “It's alright..."

In a burst of insecurity of self, rather than their abnormal surroundings, he asked, "Phel, you love me, don't you?"

The blood rose higher.

"Of course!" Mitaka laughed, his reply bubbling from the blood's surface as it reached his neck. "Why else would I stand with you in this bloodbath _you_ created?"

Hux woke up crying, sweat and tears pouring down his face and neck.

Hands grasped him, triggering more desperate sounds from Hux that paired well with his flailing attempts to get away. But the appendages were insistent, pulling him back to… a padded surface? He shook more, trying to throw off whatever hands were on him as they struggled, reaching up towards the bright white light above his head. He was terrified that they would rip his flesh, tear him limb from limb, reach for his throat-

“General, please!”

Hux’s vision cleared. The hands belonged to medical. The padded surface was an examination bed. The bright light was the illumination beams on the ceiling.

The voice was Mitaka.

The notorious lieutenant was among the people in the room, but not in the group of people grappling with Hux. That was left to the medical officers. Hux wanted to get them off, but he couldn’t find the energy as the adrenaline left with his fear from the vivid dreams.

Hux was settled back on the bed and forced to be tucked in with a warm blanket. The medical personnel were talking, but he wasn’t paying them any attention.

_Mitaka…here? Why? What reason?_

Mitaka just stood on the corner, staring all about the room. His eyes went to the floor, the walls, the ceiling, his uniform sleeve, the silly fake plant by the viewport, and so on. Never on Hux himself.

“-would be wise to extend the time.”

“Beg pardon?” Hux asked, finally breaking his stare.

The medical officer speaking in question hesitated in what appeared to be irritation before recapping.

“Your leave has been extended to 72 hours from now.”

“What? No!” Hux was infuriated, moving to stand from the bed, but was stopped once again by insistent hands.

“Sir,” the same medic as before began, this time calmer. “I am afraid you have no choice-”

“I damn well have a choice!” Hux exploded, being pulled back from lunging at the man in fury. “This is-”

“Sir, _please_.”

Hux was silenced by the quiet plea from the lieutenant in the corner.

Shaking in anger, he settled back against the bed, still glaring. The moments dragged on as he was given a lengthy speech of proper self-care and dedication to one’s body, irritating Hux all the more. Instead of paying them any heed, however, he decided to ponder the less aggravating person in the room.

Mitaka. _Mitaka._ He stayed. He kriffing _stayed_ to oversee his health. Why? To what purpose? Did he care after all? Care beyond the loyalty of an officer to their CO? Hux doubted it. But the underlying warmth he felt…he knew it was hope, the stubborn positivity in the impossibility. But if it was not care, then what? Did he have something further to say to him, beyond his lecture that was a more practical version than what the annoying medical officers were feeding him at the moment?

Actually, they were leaving. _Finally_. Perhaps they had tired of their own voice and decided to take a vow of silence for the betterment of the First Order.

All that was left was the two. Him and Mitaka. Each felt the room constrain around themselves like a noose, tightening with every awkward movement made and every turn of the head or shifted weight.

Hux wanted to kick himself, scream his arguments, cry out his fears, and beg for clarity. This yearning lead to a thought; if he had never fallen in love with Mitaka, he would have been his own god still; free to gambol and frisk away at life as easy as he allowed himself to. Now that his thoughts belonged to another, that unbridled permission was cluttered with expectation and remorse.

This thought terrified Hux, and couldn’t bear the silence any longer.

“You stayed,” he said.

Mitaka finally stopped fidgeting, but still didn’t look at him.

“Yes,” was all he replied.

“I won’t ask why, at the risk of receiving an indecisive answer,” Hux continued, pleased with how controlled his voice seemed. Mitaka, however, appeared unsure, most likely with Hux’s reasoning instead of his tone.

“Thank you?”

“But I demand you explain your intent of bringing me _here_.” Hux waved a hand, which still had the plastic band handcuffed to him as annoying as an itch.

“If you were injured. And I had not,” Mitaka began. “I would be sentenced for treason, or malcontent.”

“Malcontent…as if you do _not_ wish for me to be hurt.”

Mitaka’s head swiftly turned so that his eyes blazed directly at Hux, suddenly no longer afraid to meet his look.

“Sir, forgive me, but that is petty,” he snapped in a chiding manner. “I do not see any reason for violence in any argument, much less ours.”

“None was had. Violence _nor_ argument, that is. I merely passed out.”

“All the more reason why I would bring you here,” Mitaka insisted, before steadying his emotions with a deep exhale. “Sir, it would be easier if you didn’t fight your medical leave.”

“You don’t understand.” It was a small and overused line, but Hux was unable to pontificate a better comeback.

A pause.

“No…” Mitaka admitted, taking a step forward. “I suppose I do not. But I do know this, Sir: the more you fight it, the longer they will extend your absence. Medical will not give in because of rank or threats.”

Hux suddenly felt his deeply buried fear – or rather _irritation_ – of medical personnel peek into anger, and used it to highlight his tone.

“And I will not give in because some idiot in a lab coat and a ten-year degree says I am not fit for military service, when they don’t know the first thing about what is required for said service!”

“That’s hardly fair, Sir.” Mitaka was quick to reply. “You chose, _hand_ - _picked_ each and every one of the personnel onboard. You would not have done so if they weren’t capable of that much.”

Hux sighed heavily, once more unable to argue. Mitaka’s words were absolute in their truth, and Hux couldn’t deny his own foolishness. Mitaka always had a talent for such things, and more than once Hux wondered if it was related to Kylo Ren’s claim of Mitaka’s force sensitivity.

At the thought of the irritating knight, Hux grumbled, “I did not pick Kylo Ren…”

“Kylo Ren is an anomaly, Sir,” Mitaka admitted. “Chosen by the Supreme Leader instead.”

“Who is _also_ an anomaly, I assure you.”

Mitaka shook his head and gestured with his hands wildly, obviously annoyed with dragging out the conversation by diverging off to tangents.

“Sir, I must protest your…. protesting!” he struggled. “This is hardly behavior of a thirty-year-old man. I apologize to be so blunt, but it is so!”

Hux’s expression tightened.

“You are right to apologize, that _was_ inappropriate,” he replied, sniffing once with narrowed eyes. Mitaka ignored the sign of distaste.  

“Sir, I am _begging_ you, this cannot go on.” Mitaka’s eyes were pleading now, shining with emotion. Worry? Concern? Fretfulness? Hux decided he didn’t like it, and leaned a little towards him.

“Give me a good reason why,” he growled. “And I shall do as you say without complaint for the duration of my medical leave. I swear it.”

_There was no possible way Mitaka could-_

“The longer you fight this and extend your out of commission status, the longer Ren has control over the _Finalizer_ and her crew,” Mitaka replied without hesitation.

Hux opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then let it go slack completely.

“I…” he stopped, considering. He recalled the days in Mitaka’s care on Naboo, and the serenity it gave him. He knew that their ease was long gone, given their history, but to have just a taste of it again…he dared to hope that perhaps it would release him from his misery. To be coaxed to something as gentle as dozing off with the man himself in the room rather than the thoughts of him were tantalizing, and too good to resist.

Hux let out a long exhale, his eyes closing with the weight of his suffering mind and body. 

“I am yours to command, Lieutenant.”

 

* * *

 

Mitaka

 

The journey back to Hux’s quarters was a quiet one; Mitaka couldn’t think of anything to say other than the terse commands he was allowed to give, and Hux didn’t offer any topics of conversation. Mitaka was glad for it, as well as many other things.

As guilty as he felt thinking this, Mitaka was glad Hux didn’t have any common sense at the moment, being careless enough to bet on something based off intelligence when Hux’s own was greatly impugned by sleep deprivation. He, Mitaka, had the upper hand, and was allowed to order his superior officer without complaint.

Mitaka was glad he was present when the doctors diagnosed and instructed Hux how to recover. It was obvious Hux’s mind had been elsewhere, but to the exact whereabouts, Mitaka had no clue. When one is so frazzled by ill health, the mind could be anywhere, from the fires of Mustafar to Tarkin with carpet slippers.

He was glad that Hux didn’t put up a fight as Mitaka half carried, half dragged his exhausted commanding officer across the halls of the _Finalizer._ It would have been more helpful if Hux actually picked up his feet, but Mitaka didn’t want to push his luck with Hux’s subdued attitude.

_“…I shall do as you say without complaint for the duration of my leave.”_

That statement was so unlike Hux that Mitaka very much doubted that Hux was not scheming, but found he didn’t quite care. It was in Hux’s personality to fight orders outside the chain of command, be it in the military or in society. Mitaka was lower on both accounts, so to surrender so willingly was uncanny. However, in this circumstance, Mitaka wasn’t about to look a gift-nerf in the mouth; if Hux was compliant, it would get the _Finalizer_ back on track sooner rather than later. Not that he would dawdle in Hux’s presence, after all. He had his station to return to.

“Lieutenant.” He heard behind him.

Mitaka winced openly at the familiar thumping gait and modulated breath that came from a certain force user everyone avoided like a plague. He could not deny the oozing dread he felt at the march gained on them from behind, and Mitaka nearly cried as he realized with the added weight of the general on his shoulder and distance to the man’s quarters, they would not make it in time to escape.

Mitaka was about to turn to face his…superior? Technically, Ren was not Military, but he’s the Supreme Leader’s apprentice. Either way, Mitaka supposed that his status deserved a response and reply.

“Yes sir?” he called over his shoulder, struggling to turn with Hux still draped over him. Mitaka tried to reposition the limp Hux when he felt a pair of lips over his ear whispering a small plea, “Don’t tell him anything…”

 Hux’s legs got in the way and nearly made them both fall over, when the black cloud that was the Knight of Ren descended upon them.

“What is his diagnosis?” he demanded, fully expecting an answer. Mitaka hated to disappoint, especially when he liked his neck on his shoulders where it belonged.

“I’m sorry sir, but that falls under medical code A-219,” he said, apologetically. When he was met with no reaction from Ren, he clarified, “Doctor-patient confidentiality, unless specified by the patient. I’m afraid he has not given clearance to you, Sir.”

Ren still did not react, except for a small inclination of the head to the side, as though he were spectating a trivial source of entertainment. Mitaka didn’t doubt he was nothing more to Ren than that.

“I take that reply as you are responsible for the general, then.” There was no question in his tone; he stated it as a fact. To Mitaka’s horror, he then commanded “I relieve you of your post for the duration of his recovery.”

It was now official; he was Hux’s nurse maid. _Again._

“W-who will take my place, Sir!?” Mitaka cried.

It was too late; Kylo Ren had walked away.

Mitaka urged his Inner Strength to speak to Patience and _not_ yell a very inappropriate explicative towards the retreating form of his commanding officer. Kylo Ren had been – dare Mitaka even _think_ of it – _cordial_ these past months. Actually, almost a year in fact…ever since-

He stopped that train of thought immediately and returned to his task. He hefted Hux once more against him and continued down the hall with a stumble. Hux was not necessarily _heavy_ or overly muscular. But Hux was certainly…long. Long arms. Long legs. Long torso. Long speeches. Long lectures. And apparently, _ridiculously_ long work hours. The appendages often caught in Mitaka’s legs in some way, making it hard to walk.

When he finally, _finally_ , got to Hux’s quarters, he could not help but let out a relieved expression. He was even more pleased when Hux actually moved to open the door. It took him a few attempts before he realized his gloves were still on.

“Override code is ‘Ark,” Hux said, slumping again. Mitaka keyed the code and the door blissfully slid open. Instantly, with renewed strength, he pulled the general inside and let him onto the couch, if only to rest himself a small bit.

“Did you want some food, sir?” Mitaka asked as he stretched his limbs out of their strained state. Hux’s eyes seemed to follow his movements, but not so much so that he could not anser.

“No…datapad.”

“I’m sorry sir, but you’re on-“

“Please, Lieutenant. My datapad.”

“You said you wouldn’t cause a row, Sir.”

Hux’s head collapsed against the pale blue couch in exasperation at the reminder, but did not ask for his pad again.

“Food, Sir?” Mitaka offered again, reminding him. Hux didn’t move, but still spoke.

“No…” he groaned.

“I’ll make some tea, Sir. Just to stave you off for now.”

Hux shook his head again, the movement lazy and uncontrolled. Mitaka watched him with fascination, almost stunned by his level of exhaustion. If Hux could no longer pretend to be a working and running machine, then it was certain that the stakes of his health were in dire need. Everyone always did say that if Hux ever were late to shift, it was certainly because he was dead.

_That soon shall change…_

Mitaka placed a hand on his Superior officer’s shoulder.

“Sir, I’m going to take you to bed now,” he said. Hux didn’t reply but a small shift in his eyes. A sagging expression of dire _relief,_ most likely subconscious. Mitaka didn’t waste time, lest Hux come to his senses and become difficult again.

He hauled him to his feet and supported Hux’s weight on the short walk to the bed. Briefly, Mitaka considered himself the failed wingman at a bar where his drinking buddy had drowned himself into oblivion after being rejected too many times, and now he was the caring mother hen putting the poor sod to bed.

But Hux was not his friend. Nor was he drunk. And Mitaka never was a wingman for anyone.

“Phel…” Hux groaned as he was laid on his sheets. Dopheld stopped at the sound of his nickname, almost foreign on Hux’s tongue.

“Dopheld, Sir.” Mitaka corrected as he wrestled with Hux’s tunic. Hux shook his head.

“ _Phel…”_ he insisted. “You came _back_ …”

“I never left, sir. I have always been under your command.”

“No…you came back…”

Mitaka blinked at Hux’s strange insistence as he finally removed Hux’s undershirt. Had he gone mad in his exhaustion?

“Sir, I cannot leave the _Finalizer_.” Mitaka waved a hand towards the small viewport and the panorama of the cosmos outside. “There’s nothing around us but space.”

“ _No_.” Hux moaned, grasping Mitaka’s collar into his fist to pull him down and closer to his pleading eyes. “you _came back_ to _me_ ,” he swore, expression wondering why he wasn’t being understood. Mitaka pried Hux’s fingers off him and pushed the hand to Hux’s chest.

“I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“But you did…you left…” Hux sighed, eyes shutting. “You left to get bacta…”

Mitaka’s face scrunched in confusion. Bacta? Why would Hux need bacta? And why did he believe Mitaka would leave to get some? Or _did_ leave at all? Was Hux running a fever? Was he delirious?

Mitaka placed a hand on Hux’s forehead, who moved towards his touch greedily. No fever was on his skin, and neither was there any perspiration.

Hux was just tired, then. Typical for the man to dramatize. Sometimes it made Mitaka wonder if Hux intentionally kept his life spick and span at all times and saved his dramatics for the opportune moment when he would have the attention of the whole room. He certainly succeeded in this potential ploy by fainting while he was _off duty_ _in his office, working_.

“I don’t suppose you know my routine…” Hux murmured, his eyes opening and more clearly focused. He reached down to undo his trousers by himself. Mitaka was grateful for it.

“No, but I don’t need to.” He replied, standing. “You’re going straight to bed.”

Mitaka left Hux sprawled on the bed, his skin almost as desaturated as the grey sheets he lay upon. Mitaka could almost compare his CO as a living corpse. He certainly appeared as empty as one.

The wardrobe is exactly where Mitaka expects it to be, as of Hux’s bedroom is a larger version of Mitaka’s own single roomed quarters, a special privilege he received since the leave. In retrospect, Mitaka wondered if Hux had purposely done all these small favors and nuances to win his good opinion again.

_I have already forgiven him. Does he still feel guilty? Can’t we just leave it behind?_

Just as he reaches into the wardrobe to find a tank and shorts, he hears Hux move on the bed behind him.

“Mitaka…just help me get my…my…”

Mitaka turns around. Hux’s pants are at his knees, and is waving to his feet, but obviously can’t think of the object that is obstructing his attempts of undressing.

“Boots, Sir. And of course.”

He returned to Hux’s side and straddled his leg to pull from the heel. The leather slipped off with only a small tug, and Hux’s leg flopped down as a deadweight. Mitaka repeated the process unceremoniously to the other leg, and carefully raised Hux’s legs from over the side of the bed to replace them on the mattress. He tried not to make a show of avoiding Hux’s moist socked feet, remembering what happened to the last person who touched them (and he would prefer _not_ to lose his jaw or teeth because his CO had a pet-peeve).

He tucked the boots beside the closet filled with the various greatcoats, right up against the wall.

“No ‘sir’.”

Mitaka stood up straighter, asking, “what, Sir?”

“No ‘sirs’… you are off duty,” Hux replied, sprawled out on the bed like a lazy Loth-cat. “ _I’m_ off duty…those _bastards_.”

“Who?” Mitaka was now confused.

“Medics and Kylo Ren. Both have sharp objects and cold fingers…”

Mitaka wondered how Hux would know if Kylo Ren’s fingers were cold or not.

“I am inclined to agree,” he said. “Neither of us wish to be off duty.”

“So much work…” Hux murmured to his underwear as he tugged them off. Mitaka adverted his attention to the wall behind Hux’s figure.

“I know. But we both have to endure this.”

Mitaka starts back for the wardrobe but Hux stops him again with a firm grip on his sleeve.

“No. Help me…” He weakly pulled at the sheet underneath him. Mitaka understood and quickly made to pull the fabric from under his weight. As he managed to cover Hux (he flatly refused to think himself as ‘tucking Hux into bed’) the man had the audacity to take humor to it.

“This is the second time you have seen me stripped, Dopheld…and still we have no intention of doing anything…”

Mitaka kept his lip in a straight line.

“No, we aren’t. Sleep is what you need. Not me.”

Seeing that Hux was now undressed, under the covers, and laying on his pillows, Mitaka saw fit to take his leave. He reached down to collect the abandoned clothes on the floor when Hux spoke again.

“Why not have both?” Hux asked, as though he were discussing something trivial as ordering a drink from the lounge.

The tone ceased Mitaka’s control over his trepidation as quickly as a murder, and forced him to stop in his collecting.

“I…”

“You, me, sleeping in a bed.” Hux continued, not at all bothered by Mitaka’s obvious discomfort. “I’m too tired for anything else. Besides, we both are now off duty so we can take liberties.”

Hux turns his head to stare at Mitaka. To the Lieutenant’s horror, there was no question of the sanity and focus in his eyes.

“I mean it, Dopheld. Doff your uniform and join me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say Hi on [Tumblr!](http://hazel-inle.tumblr.com)


	3. III

_ Hux _

 

Hux didn’t care that his words had leapt past the rusted lock that was his lips, much less that he had spoken them to the cause of his suffering. Hux didn’t very much care for anything, precisely.

His skin prickled ever so slightly at the cool temperature in the room, even with the covers over his prone body on the bed. Mitaka stood not too far away with his mouth ajar and now open hands shaking; he was obviously stunned, but why he expected Hux to say anything different in such a state as this was the real surprise. Honestly, for such a man as talented in reading auras as Mitaka, his gift was certainly slacking off.

“Join me, Lieutenant.”

Mitaka shook his head saying, “I cannot, Sir.”

“No ‘Sirs,’ Mitaka.”

“I apologize. But, Si-Hux, I must protest.”

“you have been doing that too much.”

“Please, you were being difficult and I-

“No, Mitaka,” Hux rolled his eyes dramatically. “You protest your own _feelings_. You protest that you feel _nothing_. You protest you feel _something_. You protest your wish to not harm me, yet do so at every turn by rejecting my pleas.”

The lieutenant had the audacity to seem affronted.

“sir-“

“no ‘ _sirs,’ Mitaka!”_ Hux snapped.

“Hux,” he growled through his teeth. “I cannot be involved. It’s not proper, nor is it legal for me to-”

“I am not asking your hand in marriage, I am asking you to stay.”

“you asked me to remove my attire and join you in your sheets!” Mitaka practically shrieked, adverting his eyes as Hux pushed the covers away from his waist. At this, Hux paused, considering his point.

“I did. It is not comfortable to join my state of rest, when you are in full uniform. Informalize yourself.”

“‘Informalize,’” Mitaka scoffed.

“Yes. Doff your jacket and any other stiff material and make yourself comfortable.”

“I would be much more comfortable anywhere but here, Sir- _Hux_.”

Hux sighed with great exasperation as exhaustion ate away at the fuse to his temper.

“Your new duty is to ensure my health. I have done as you have requested as per the bargain’s terms. Now allow me one indulgence.”

“This duty I have been saddled with is nothing new, Sir. It has become something of a habit, of which I did _not_ wish to have.”

“ _Hux_ , Mitaka.”

“ _Hux,”_ his lieutenant snapped impatiently at the reminder, adding, _"_ I am _nearing_ the point of breaking orders by leaving you here and filing for _transfer_.”

Hux managed to salvage a stoic expression to hide his terror.

“You exaggerate, Mitaka. I know you wish to no longer be confused, so-“

“My desires are not so great as to do away with common sense,” Mitaka bit back. “I may want answers, but I do not-“

Hux interrupted again.

“I ask you to stay for _protection_ , Mitaka. Not for any predatory reason.”

“no?” The jab was disbelieving.

“I am not, Phel. I wish for your company. There is safety in numbers, and there is comfort in a trusted ally.”

“protection from what exactly?”

“from  _myself_.”

Mitaka was silent and Hux took the opportunity to confess.

“I too am confused, Phel. Every time my eyes close to dream, I am plagued by my transgressions, and the thought of what could have been. I ask that you stay because I…miss you. I miss our familiarity and ease. I miss having you as a friend.”

Hux looked to him with pleading in his eyes.

“Truce?”

Mitaka appeared to draw inward in thought. His pensive mood remained for some time as the scales of argument tipped back and forth between staying or going. Finally, with an almost resigned sigh, Mitaka reached for his belt and began to discard his outer clothing.

Hux allowed his relief to show, or so he told himself. In truth, if he were an honest individual, he had hardly any control over his expressions. But what did it matter? Mitaka was the sort to see through him. And if Mitaka were to stay, then there could be no doubt that if Mitaka didn’t know what was going through Hux’s mind before, he certainly would figure it out.

Mitaka was now down to his undershirt and hopping on one leg to pry off his second boot. Hux smiled at the struggle, finding Mitaka all the more attractive at his determination. Mitaka however did not share his sentiment and returned the smile with a vexed scowl.

“I am honored that I amuse you, General,” he bit, stumbling as the offending footwear finally came free. Hux’s expression cooled back to his frosty depression, and merely sunk lower under the covers with adverted eyes. He felt the bed dip ever so gently and knew it to be Mitaka joining him at last. Hux remained disinterested in his appearance but screamed all sorts of profanities and self-depreciating comments towards his own intelligence.

_Why did you stupidly invite him to stay, you dolt!? This bed is a standard officer’s size! It never was meant to hold two people!_

Mitaka’s uncomfortable shifting brought him back to the present.

“I hope you were not expecting me to indulge in core world fineries as some do in The Order,” Hux muttered. He heard Mitaka scoff.

“I would hardly call you _indulgent_ with material things. Everyone knows you rather have the respectability of a leader over finery.”

Hux smiled to himself. Mitaka truly knew him well.

“Personally,” he continued with an audible small sneer in his voice. “I believe that is a kinder way of saying you’re a power-hungry dictator.”

_Damn him._

“Do you purposely try to adhere cruelty towards me for every possible case of compliment?”

“If only to give you humility.”

“I have humility.”

“Of a Jedi, yes.” Mitaka’s voice was flat.

Hux shook his head, saying, “The Jedi are dead. Ren made sure of that.”

“He is one, ergo, they exist. He has their same hypocritical humility where he believes order does not exist without him. Or the Supreme Leader.”

“That flirts with treachery, Mitaka,” Hux warned, the apprehension of the consequences potent and real in his chest. Regardless, he could practically hear the eye roll from his partner.

“I merely say that Ren is about as humble and subtle as Naboo finery. And he happens to have force powers, so that makes him even more egocentric.”

Hux barely heard the second half of the comment; the memory of Mitaka in skin-clinging Naboo satin and gold on the night of their outing danced behind his eyes and threatened to develop too real emotions from the last precious memory of Dopheld actually being _happy_ in his presence.

“ _Were_ you ever happy, Dopheld?”

Mitaka was silent for a beat.

“Where are you coming from?”

“You are not happy with me in my presence. You are equally unhappy without my so-called power-hungry arse. And you are unhappy when I am self-depreciative. You have even gone as far to say that you do not hate me. Yet…”

Mitaka sighed and shifted.

“I am unhappy because you are something I shouldn’t have. I made an image of you that I wanted to believe in. But the more I knew you, the more I understood how foolish I was.”

Hux turned over, only to be nose to nose with Mitaka, inches away from his face. It was now that he was forced to reckon that he felt Dopheld’s breath against his lips and could almost taste the natural musk in the air. He craved to be even closer, even this proximity being too far. He held back.

“Was it a ‘meeting your hero’ experience? Not that I was your hero, but someone who you knew to have success to a degree, only to-“

“Yes,” Mitaka cut him off, moving partially away. “It was. It was disappointing, painful, and reckless of me.”

Hux sighed and laid on his back, staring up at the cool blue-grey ceiling.

“Only you would blame yourself for my own faults,” He murmured to himself.

Mitaka still replied, “I don’t blame you for your faults, nor do I forgive them,” a sigh, “I just…willfully blinded myself with what I wanted to see.”

Hux blinked his curiosity and eagerness aroused.

“You… _wanted_ to be with me?”

“I wanted you to be a good person,” Mitaka said firmly. “I wanted you to be the selfless leader who cared for his men equally like we all believed you to be.”

“What made you think I am not?” Hux demanded, ferocity clawing at his chest as he gazed at his bedfellow who had dashed his small hopes and was quick to follow in a similar tone.

“You tore me apart just because of your _curiosity_ and sought for a weakness. And for _once_ you couldn’t kill your toy in the end a much to your own displeasure, you had to face the fire. That is what happens when you have to deal with consequences.”

“The only part that garners displeasure from me, is that I hurt you and cannot make it right.”

Mitaka shook his head in disagreement.

“You  _did_. With the reunion. I accepted your apology and believed it all to be over.”

There was a pause for a beat, before he sat up on an elbow, looking at Hux with the aided view as he went on.

“But why continue? You treat me differently, as though you do not know what to make of me. Are you nervous I will relay all of your past deeds? Hold it as blackmail?”

“If you wanted to do so, you would have done it.” Hux said, still feeling the shamelessness of his murder count. “But I know you are not a man who wishes to obtain riches or status. You just wish to have peace and order, and to play your part in that goal. That is something I cannot fathom. No one has ever been as selfless as you.”

Hux leveled his eyes to Mitaka’s.

“You bewilder me.”

Mitaka did not reply, except to roll over and render the conversation over. Hux was unsure if this was a blessing or a refusal. Since it hurt, he decided it was the latter.

* * *

 

_ Mitaka _

__

The next few hours were restless for Mitaka, who waited for Hux to finally allow himself to sleep. They had laid in the dark, awake and silent, for quite some time before Mitaka noticed the evenness of Hux’s breathing. To be careful, he remained still for a while longer.

Hux was indeed resting when Mitaka dared a glance his way. The general’s expression did not soften, but it was obvious he was not awake. Whatever he was dreaming, it was not a pleasant. Mitaka watched him.

Hux said “protection”. What did that mean? Protection from…enemies?

It was no mystery that Hux was a wanted man by many. Especially a particular ex princess. General Leia Organa was not vicious as far as Mitaka could tell, but there was a particular stoniness to her demeanor. As though she were haunted by a past bigger than her own experiences.

Hux held a similar face, but his past was far more internal and personal. The fate of the galaxy did not hang on the balance of his father and brother, or a rogue smuggler husband with a price on his head in every system.

Before Mitaka could articulate any further thoughts on the matter, there was movement next to him. Out of instinct, he pretended to be asleep, keeping still and breathing steadily.

“I wish…you hadn’t denied me, Phel,” came a broken murmur. Mitaka would never had thought Hux could sound like this, but here he was. Keeping the façade, he continued to stay still. Fingers brushed his face gently as Hux continued to speak in that impossibly small, but emotional tone.

“I wish that with all I have. I see you everywhere. When I close my eyes, when I open them, there you are. Even when you are not.” A pause, and the touch moved to his chin. “Is it possible to want something so much that you’d break everything you’ve known for it?  Fall to disorder and chaos for?”

As much as Dopheld yearned to grab the fingers on his face and…he was not precisely sure what he would do then. Would he kiss them, tell Hux he needed to move on? Or would he break them for daring to touch him again?

Hux’s chuckle nearly made him freeze

“No…you make a good point.”

_Point? Where had I made a point? I had not made any comment at all…_

“Where would we be if we did that? Where would The Order be? What would that entail to us? I suppose…I look at you and I don’t see a person in the sense of the word. No, don’t get offended, its not an insult, I just see something else. I see…well, more.”

A pause.

“Of course you’d say that. It’s what we all do when we are foolish. We make ourselves see and believe what we want because the alternative is too unbearable. I cannot view you as a monster or traitor, no more than I can see the New Republic being successful. No more than Kylo Ren will be Supreme Leader.”

Another pause, the hand moving down to his throat, teasing the jugular with feathery touch.

“I-I wonder if you even think of me at all? If you feel as I do. Have I not made an impact to you as much as you have made an impact to me? Of course, you would never admit anything. What is the _right_ answer, you’re thinking. ‘What does Hux want to hear? What can I say that will please him most, without getting me into the situation?’ I know you. You want to be free of me, to be your own god. It’s a shame we are no longer our own. Love and hate…still makes us slaves to our feelings, our wants. You want to be free; indifferent to me. That’s what you have been doing. It’s what you want.”

Mitaka’s eyelids begged to open, but he clamped down on the urge as Hux continued.

“But… because being near me is hard, that means you are not indifferent to me… that you feel something…so there is still a chance for us…”

Mitaka felt Hux’s knuckles trace down his face and jaw, teasing the skin of his neck before moving back up to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind his ear. Hux was so close, he felt the ghost of his touch as near as he did breathe, and almost flinched when Hux at last-

No. Hux was moving away now, the inferno now sliding away as though it were retreating back to the pits of hell.

Mitaka instinctually opened his eyes. And saw Hux was staring through him, as though he were not there. He garnered no indication of seeing Mitaka at all and checking his pulse and heart rate wasn’t noticed either.

Both normal, but not slow enough to be asleep. And there was a heaviness that was too familiar.

“No…” Hux whined continuing to speak to whatever it was he was seeing. “You would never forgive me. You could once, but twice…no. I do not think so.”

The heaviness subsided, and Hux’s eyes rolled behind his eyes before they shut. Mitaka waited for him to be asleep before leaping out of bed. He knew that weighted pressure all too well, and it was time to do something about it. After all, he had ordered him to nurse Hux back to health; the best way to do that was attack the cause.

_And Kylo Ren was easy to find at this hour._

 


	4. IV

Hux

 

“I wish…you hadn’t denied me, Phel.” Hux spoke to his subordinate. He was not sure where or when he was saying this to Mitaka, but only felt relieved that he was standing before him. Their surroundings were odd; just a never-ending darkness. They seemed to be standing upon a floating invisible surface that pulsated from their feet.

“I wish that with all I have,” Hux continued, watching Mitaka’s face carefully. “I see you everywhere. When I close my eyes, when I open them, there you are. Even when you are not.”

He allowed a pause to move his hand to touch Mitaka’s  his chin.

“Is it possible to want something so much that you’d break everything you’ve known for it?  Fall to disorder and chaos for?”

“Would you be the person I fell for if you did such a thing?” Mitaka replied.

“No…” Hux admitted. “You make a good point. Where would we be if we did that? Where would The Order be? What would that entail to us? I suppose…I look at you and I don’t see a person in the sense of the word.”

Mitaka glared and Hux was quick to backtrack

“No, don’t get offended, it’s not an insult, I just see something else. I see…well, more.”

“I am only a person,” Mitaka replied. “What you see and believe and what is actually before you are different. It’s all denial at this point.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Hux agreed. “It’s what we all do when we are foolish. We make ourselves see and believe what we want because the alternative is too unbearable. I cannot view you as a monster or traitor, no more than I can see the New Republic being successful. No more than Kylo Ren will be Supreme Leader.”

Hux’s attention moved from the conversation, and instead to this odd reality that he found himself in. Mitaka was here, but there was something wrong with him. Like this wasn’t really him at all. His hand moved down to Mitaka’s throat, to the jugular in a sensual touch. He certainly felt real. But the instinctual feeling that something was very wrong was still ringing warnings.

 “I-I wonder if you even think of me at all?” he thought aloud. “If you feel as I do. Have I not made an impact to you as much as you have made an impact to me? Of course, you would never admit anything. What is the _right_ answer, you’re thinking. ‘What does Hux want to hear? What can I say that will please him most, without getting me into the situation?’ I know you. You want to be free of me, to be your own god. It’s a shame we are no longer our own. Love and hate…still makes us slaves to our feelings, our wants. You want to be free; indifferent to me. That’s what you have been doing. It’s what you want.”

Mitaka nodded, but Hux was not finished.

“But… because being near me is hard, that means you are not indifferent to me… that you feel something…so there is still a chance for us…”

He moved closer, feeling the heat of Mitaka’s skin against his hand and believing yes, _yes_ he could finally be free of this torture. Mitaka was so close, and not moving away. He just watched, waiting. Hux leaned forward, yes, yes _yes_

_No._

The real Mitaka would not let this happen. He would never just watch. He would act, speak out in the most polite way, and keep his distance. This was not the Mitaka he wanted.

Hux was moved back, standing a full arm length away from this fake entity. Now he could see what was wrong with him. This fake Mitaka was too pleasing, too accommodating, too _malleable._ This was not Phel. He did not deserve Hux’s attention. If he gave this useless thing his affection…and betray his trust again…

 “No…” He said. “You would never forgive me. You could once, but twice…no. I do not think so.”

 

* * *

 

Mitaka

 

It was an unwritten, but very well-known rule that one never entered Training Gym 7 at fourth hour. That was Kylo Ren’s training time. And he needed the whole center. No one quite knew how he had ascertained the entire gym as his, but stories varied from teller.

“I heard he destroyed half of it in a rage and then told Hux to fix it for his use.”

“He doesn’t actually use it. It’s just a show of power.”

“The sanitation crew says they pull out a lot of black-brown hair from the drain after he is finished. Maybe he is part Wookie?”

“Does he even take his mask off to train?”

Naturally, the one who had the most told story was Matt, the Radar Tech.

“A buddy of mine saw Kylo Ren took his shirt off in the shower. He said Kylo Ren had an 8 pack. That Kylo Ren was _shredded_.”

Mitaka never cared for idle gossip. All that mattered was that TG 7 was his, and _no one_ was allowed to enter. No one had ever tried to break that rule. 8 pack shredded or thirty pounds wet, Kylo Ren had the force. And that was all.

Mitaka, however, didn’t care.

The hallway was deserted around TG7, as was predictable. The bay doors were sealed shut, barring anyone from entering. Dopheld used his security clearance without a second thought, his mind completely occupied by what he was going to say. That was, until, he actually entered the room and _saw_ Kylo Ren.

As it turned out, Kylo Ren was not a Wookie. Kylo Ren was indeed shredded. And Kylo Ren did _not_ train with his mask on.

Slickened faint but clear enough to see 8 pack shone bright as sweat poured down his body. Every movement accentuated his ability with his light saber, which he swung with precision in what was obviously a mantra. His wide shoulders were definitely not faked from his clothes, carving out a perfect V shape that many men would dream of achieving.

If his body was not enough to impress, his face had something to say. Sculpted high cheekbones and a long but strong jawline made his head look a little oddly shaped, but the nose and lips fit perfectly, albeit on a different person they would be quite large. The dark hair was tied back in a small tail at the crown of his head, revealing the all too familiar lonely soulful eyes and speckled beauty marks.

_Matt the Radar Technician and Kylo Ren were one in the same._

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Kylo Ren froze mid motion and slowly turned to face Mitaka, who quickly closed the bay doors as to regain the privacy that Kylo Ren obviously desired.

They stared at one another, one partially wiggling in his parade rest and confidence slowly draining, the other staring dubiously and furiously back with his weapon in a tight grip. It was the latter who broke the tension by extinguishing his light saber and speaking.

“Do you have a report?” Kylo Ren asked, annoyed

“No-yes! Yes sir.”

“Is it important?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Can it wait?”

“I do not believe so.”

Kylo Ren rolled his eyes, asking “what is it?” over his shoulder. Suddenly Mitaka understood why he wore the mask. He was just so… _expressive_. And not just on the grounds of facial expression, but the range of feeling that was betrayed at every movement.

_Focus. Focus on why you are here._

“I know the reason for the general’s inability to sleep or have proper rest, Sir.”

“Hardly something to interrupt my training session. Especially since you said It was not my concern.”

“I know that it is your doing, Sir.”

The lack of any reaction or movement from the larger mysterious conundrum that was Kylo Ren was enough to cause some disturbing thoughts in Mitaka. It was not any mystery that Kylo Ren was prone to showing brute force as a preference to let his temper loose. And with Mitaka being his prime choice in the past, he was not sure how to take this lack of reaction.

“Do you normally accuse your superiors?” Ren asked, tone cold, but light.

“No, sir.”

“So, only when it has something to do that that rabid animal.”

Mitaka’s brows raised in questioning.

“I’m sorry?”

“Hux,” Ren said. “He is a lethal wild animal.”

Mitaka pursed his lips. True, Hux was lethal. Yes, he was a murderer. Yes, he was trained to be a weapon. But he was no animal. If he was comparable to one, it would be a desert fox full of trickery and cunning. But he was not rabid.

“I do not doubt the General is trained well in lethality-”

“No, Mitaka,” Kylo Ren said, growing obviously impatient. “That is how he is _naturally_. He is a vicious, slimy bastard who shouldn’t be in the high command. He is dangerous.”

“Begging pardon, Sir, but many would argue that you are the same way.”

Before Mitaka could apologize further for the comment, or wish that he was in another room, Kylo Ren just waved the comment aside, much to Mitaka’s surprise.

“I am not here for a debate on that matter. I know you and Hux have your history, but it is time for him to relieve himself from duty and you to ascertain where your loyalties lie.”

So, this was it. Kylo Ren had stooped to driving madness into Hux in order to take power, and he was using Mitaka to do it. Instead of denying his actions, he was owning them, and demanding Mitaka to either go along with the scheme or to go down with the man.

“Sir-”

“You have to choose. Unstable, rabid cur that Hux is, or the natural successor of The Order.”

“Allow me to speak plainly, sir,” Mitaka spoke, and continued before being granted permission. “In sabotaging General Hux through underhanded means, clearly shows the bureaucracy that we at the First Order so desperately seek to avoid. To involve me is to speak treason, and no matter what the circumstances will be, I will not betray the trust that Hux has shown to me.”

“Your obstinance almost speaks of passion. I wonder how you honestly can believe yourself anything but in love with him.”

Mitaka opened his mouth to reply but stopped. The mere suggestion of what he stifled within himself and feared to be true in the darkest nights took him straight off the offensive. Kylo Ren had jabbed the right sore spot and Dopheld could feel himself tumbling down the cliff.

“How I feel…” he began, feeling his throat tighten, “has _never_ effected the way I serve. And this here and now is no exception. No matter what threat or harm you or anyone else may throw at me, I will protect the First Order from any threat. That includes protecting the frustrating, stubborn, and impossible general that broke my heart, from _anyone_. Including you, Kylo Ren.”

Ren’s dark soulful eyes narrowed dangerously, staring the lieutenant down in absolute quiet fury.

“So be it. I will know how to act.”


End file.
